Hero of the Story
by irishileana
Summary: Cave Johnson was a man of big ideas, a man who wanted to change the world. Cave Johnson lived in endless pursuit of heroism.


_Great job, astronaut, war hero, and/or Olympian! With your help, we're gonna change the world!_

They said he did it for the money. Aperture was as much a company as it was a research facility, and their impressive products sold for a pretty penny. True, Cave Johnson was happy to lean back in the riches of Aperture's glory days, revelling in tailored suits and expensive cigars and everything else that comes with immense wealth. He was not averse to making money—but that wasn't what tied his heart to Aperture. Cave Johnson was a man of big ideas, a man who wanted to change the world. Cave Johnson lived in endless pursuit of heroism.

He was a hero as he assembled an empire out of ambition and shower curtains, his charm spearheading Aperture's success. Others insisted that he was out of his league, that he could never manage a company on his own. Even those who believed he _could _run a business still balked at the idea that he would ever bring anything worthwhile to the world—after all, there is nothing radical or impressive about shower curtains. Cave Johnson, however, was radical. Cave Johnson was impressive. Cave Johnson never gave up, because heroes never give up.

He was a hero as he rounded up the smartest and the bravest to develop the most ground-breaking technology of all time. What had begun as a simple salesman's job swiftly became so much more. Cave was able to hire real scientists, outstanding men with the means to play out his dreams. Aperture's halls were saturated with famous champions willing to test for the sake of the world. Cave Johnson was creating a revolution.

He was a hero as he spoke with the press, collected his awards, allowed the world to plaster his face on the front of national business magazines. Everyone was clamouring for an interview, wanting to hear his opinions on science and politics and Coke vs. Pepsi. When the company faced lawsuits, Cave puppeteered the interviews so the press saw things his way. The reporters wrote of an Aperture that had been battered by society, an Aperture that was just trying to make the world a better place. They wrote that the company had been unjustly stomped into the ground by the government and Black Mesa—but that there was hope as long as there was Cave Johnson. A man of his charisma could make _anything _happen—all for the good of humanity.

Aperture was an environment where real science was created. The company's products were astounding, shattering all ideas of humanity's limits. Aperture changed the world, changed the course of science, took ideas that would have never entered the dreams of anyone else and made them real. It was a place of power and a place of incredible innovation, and Cave Johnson sat at the top of it all, serving humanity comfortably from his perch. Even when the company hit harder times, his thirst for success and natural charm made him a hero. He was everything he'd always wanted to be.

He was rich and he was a hero and the sharp taste of death destroyed it all.

No one idolizes a man who can't breathe after ascending a flight of stairs. There is no grandeur in canes or painkillers or catheters. The kingdom Cave had created slipped away, his face forgotten, his own employees ignoring him and failing to meet his eye. His body was crumbling, mirrored by the walls of a facility that was surely too old to subsist for much longer. The world had moved on from Aperture—and so, too, the world had moved on from him.

Cave Johnson was a man of big ideas, but even his dreams were falling apart. He wasn't a hero. He was a broken man—a _failure_. No one could possibly admire him now. And yet…

There was _her._

_We're still doing science, sir._

She was no longer the innocent young thing who'd once been struck into silence just facing the sheer enormity of her workplace. She was so much more experienced now, able to handle any sort of disaster life (or rather, Aperture) threw at her. Caroline was the only reason anything got done at the company, and that made her by all rights Cave's equal—but she still brought him coffee every day. She called him 'sir', called him 'Mr. Johnson', gave him the respect no one else was willing to give anymore. When she looked at him, he saw the unwavering veneration in her eyes. He knew not even the fingers of death slowly clenching his lungs could make her think any less of him. He knew she would always see him as a hero.

Cave Johnson, even in his final days, had to live up to that role. He had to protect her, for his sake as much as hers. Whether she liked it or not, there was only one way to keep her safe, and he was going to make sure it happened. He was going to save her, even if it was the very last thing he did.

He had one last chance to be a hero, and he was damn well going to take it.


End file.
